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Dead West Hungarian Nation

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It rarely happens that a person like me is just sitting in front of a keyboard and doesn’t even know what would be right or worth typing. Because what is desired of him is not worth reading to anyone in a newspaper, a worthy curse in an editorial. Anyway: to whom? To the leadership of a football team called Hertha BSC? To the Germans? Or to the western world? Suddenly, one doesn’t even know who to be angry at, who to curse in this story.

It is not even anger: pain, bitterness, sorrow, profound disappointment. Because we weren’t prepared for that, that’s why we took our skin to the fair, we didn’t primarily want to live better, but more freely. That is: free. Because there are no degrees of freedom. In front of us floated a mirage of the West thirty to forty years ago, where all people were free to have their say, our guiding thread — and then we knew the coveted West as well — was that “I don’t agree with you, but I would give my life for it, so you can say what you think ”.

The system we lived in from 1989 to 1990 did everything it could to silence anyone who thought otherwise, said something other than the sole custodian of truth, the Party. Expressing one’s own opinion was an existential threat, at first it was explicitly life-threatening, later it was “only” impossible for a person to go and have several degrees in his pocket as an auxiliary worker. Because he had to work.

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That system was called communism, socialism, dictatorship. At the time, we did not believe that the West, where we tried to break our nails, for which we would have been willing to die, like the guys in the ’56, would one day get to the same place as the Bolsheviks or the Nazi dictatorship, we did not think that America and Germany would refuse all that was worth dreaming about, longing for a life worthy of them. We did not think that the homeland of freedom would become the realm of evil in a few decades.

And when asked where the eternal squabblers, the strict journals, cohnbendits of the “rule of law authority”, the delicate guardians of European values, are now, we have to say: everyone is in place. Everything and everyone is in place. They were never interested in freedom of the press, freedom of expression, they always spat on the rule of law, it was just a theater, just a disguise, a costume drawn on the rags of total self-sacrifice and surrender or compliance with sponsors. And where are the Hungarians who fear the “dictatorship” of Viktor Orbán with a suitcase packed for a decade, but with adequate payment, where are the editors-in-chief and party leaders with a bright eye from democracy? Either they snooze like hairs in the grass, or rejoice with their mouths wide open that this Petry has been well received, so he must rejoice that there is no more Gestapo. No?

But there is a small problem here. From now on, if any of them dare to say a bad word about the Hungarian government, the Hungarian democracy, the Hungarian press, the rule of law, it is least that we laugh in their mouths. Or send them… There.

If a goalkeeper coach can be disturbed for the fault of the rule of law in Germany for his not-so-extreme opinion, it means that German democracy is sick. Western democracy is sick. The European Union is sick. He is no longer advanced, but dying. All we can do is resist this pungent odor, holding our noses, trying to stay as normal as possible, with a sick world on our borders. There is no other way than to persevere, to stand up for the values ​​that Zsolt Petry, who was expelled from his club for his opinion, spoke about. Thus, after Easter, we can proclaim especially sincerely: there is a resurrection.

(Cover image source: Pixabay.com)



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